As Simple as ABC
by Lupa Dracolis
Summary: A collection of alphabetical one-shots, each one centered around a kiss. T because of Gambit's mouth. Warning - chapter 5 is rather angsty!
1. After Apocalypse

**Basically I need something to get my creative juices, and this is going to be it. I hope you enjoy!**

**After Apocalypse**

**Rogue and Remy**

Not only had he not come to help them with Apocalypse, but he had the sheer audacity to break into the mansion! A mansion she was sure he knew was filled literally to the brim with mutants; the X-men and X-kids with the addition of the brotherhood, Magneto and even Mystique, who had elected to stay there – for the time being at any rate. As a result, Rogue and Kitty had to share their room with Wanda. The Scarlet Witch still had no idea of the true nature of her father, but she slept fretfully, and only confided to the professor about what she dreamt.

At least, she assumed he'd broken in. How else could he be there leaning over her, hand covering her mouth and demonic eyes glowing. There was something she could do about the hand, at least. She bit down, hard. His eyes widened in pain, and the muscles on his neck went taught as he tried not to cry out. Rogue pulled in a deep breath to shout for help, and then paused. Why should she? She wasn't without her own defences, and it wasn't as if he was hurting her or anything.

_Yet_. A tiny voice whispered in the back of her brain, but she squashed it. She was the Rogue, and she feared no-one.

"What do yah want?" She asked harshly.

"Ssh, _Cherie_, y'll wake de others." He whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the two sleeping forms on the other side of the room.

"What do yah want?" She repeated, still refusing to whisper.

"_Cherie_, it would give Gambit great piece o' mind if y' were _un peu _(1) quieter. Den he's more likely to answer y'r questions."

"Fahne. Now tell meh what yah want, swamp rat!" Rogue whisper-shouted.

"Remy wanted t' let y' know he wanted t' come help fight Apocalypse, bu' he wasn' invited."

"Waddaya mean, weren't invited? Jean an' Scott went ta get everyone they could!"

"_Oui_, _mais _(2) Remy wasn' asked. Dey knew he was in N'Awlins, bu' no-one bothered t' come fetch him. It was de same for Pyro, an' I'm sure Sabretooth's heart musta broke when he didn' get an invite neither. Face it, _Cherie_. De only ones who got accepted in y' little party o' do-gooders was de ones _qui_ y' precious Scott found acceptable."

"Scott is not mah anything, an' yah still haven't answered mah question." He lifted one eyebrow.

"Remy jus' did."

"No, ya told meh why ya came here, not what yah want in return. An' Ah suppose it's too much tah ask for ya tah come in daylight, and enter through a ground floor door?"

"_Oui_, Remy can' do dat. An' as for what he wants…" He trailed off, and glanced at Kitty, who had just mumbled something, and turned over. When she ceased moving, he turned back to face Rogue.

"Remy wants dis." He leant over and brushed his lips over hers. As Rogue was expecting, she felt a spark from the skin to skin contact, but somehow it was different. Instead of drawing energy from the Cajun, the energy came from within her, brought to the surface by his lips. He drew away, frowning in a puzzled way. Lifting a hand and pulling off his glove, the thief pressed his warm, bare palm against her cheek. Rogue felt her cheek grow hot. But not from an influx of energy. Rather, for a far more…human reason. The Rogue was blushing.

"Why aren't Ah absorbing yah?" She asked, forgetting to whisper. Kitty grumbled under her breath, and yawned widely.

"Is it time to get up yet?" She asked sleepily.

"No, Kitteh. It's still dark. Go back tah sleep" She turned back to Remy, but he had vanished like a thief in the night.

**(1) A little**

**(2) Yes, but**


	2. Blackmail

**Blackmail**

"Y' know, _Cherie_, I heard somet'ing _trés interessant_ jus' now." He said from where he sat next to her on the couch, too close to be safe.

"An' what's that, Swamp Rat?" She replied, moving slowly away, so he wouldn't notice. He grinned, and closed the distance between them again, putting his arm around her waist.

_Guess he did notice. Damn Swamp Rat._

"Accordin' t' de _petite_, y' used t' have a t'ing fo' ole visor-face. Dat can' be true, can it?" She spun to stare into his grinning face, freezing momentarily when she realised how close it was.

"_Cherie?_ Please tell Remy de Kitty-cat made it up." But his voice wasn't pleading; it was light, his eyes dancing in amusement.

"Get lost, Swamp Rat!" Rogue yelled, pushing at him. He caught her arm, however, and held her there.

"Fahne, yeah, Ah had a crush ahn Scott. So what?"

"One word, _Cherie_. Blackmail." He grinned at her again, eyes flashing.

"Yah…yah wouldn'!"

"T'ink 'bout it, _Cherie_. It's me y're talkin' 'bout. Remy LeBeau, Prince o' T'ieves, kidnapper of young, innocent girls-"

"Hunh." Rogue grunted, and crossed her arms, turning away from him. Remy, however, took the opportunity to pull her onto his lap.

"Hey! Put meh down!"

"_Non._ Blackmail, remember?"

"Fahne. What d' y' want?"

"_Un baiser." _ He replied promptly.

"Remy, Ah don' speak French. Use English."

"How 'bout Remy show you what he means, hein?"

"What are yah-" Rogue began, but was cut off short when Gambit pressed his lips to hers. She tried to fight him off, but he held on, until her powers kicked in, and started to drain his energy. Still, he clung to her, and she found she was clinging back, exulting in the contact, until he slumped to the side. Rogue fell off his lap onto the floor, but as she fell she was certain she heard him murmur "Def'nately worth it." Before he passed out.

**Any ideas for c, people?**


	3. Celebration

**Apparently didn't explain this very well – unless otherwise specified, the only thing these one-shots have in relation to each other is their romyness. This oneshot is based on rogueslove22's idea, Celebratory.**

**Celebration**

"Sugah, Ah got some news foah yah." Remy looked over to where his _Cherie_ stood in the doorway to the bathroom.

"Good or bad?" He asked, lounging on their bed. She walked over and curled up next to him. The couple shared what used to be Rogue and Kitty's room, before the younger girl moved out. In her own words, 'like, Gambit comes over so often that it might as well be his room. And I, like, don't particularly want to be here when you two are…doing stuff.' After having gained control thanks to new X-man Sage, Rogue and Remy were free to explore the more…physical side of their relationship. An opportunity that Remy didn't waste.

"Well, that depends on yoah point of view. Ah think it's pretty amazin'. Yah see, Ah was supposed tah have mah period last week."

"And…"

"An' Ah didn'. So Ah went tah the chemists in town, an' Ah got this." She showed him a little plastic stick that had previously been hidden behind her back. Remy took it from her in puzzlement, at first not realising what he was being shown. He spun it around in his fingers, and when it came to rest on his open palm, there was a little plus sign on the top. Suddenly, he grasped what it was. Sitting bolt upright, Remy stared at the pregnancy indicator he was holding in his hands.

"Sugah? Are yah alraght? Ah'm sorreh if it ain't what yah wanted-" Rogue's apology was broken off when Remy leapt to his feet, pulling her with him and sweeping her into his arms.

"_C'est_ _magnifique, Cherie. J'taime._"

"Ah love yah too, Sugah. So, we keepin' it then?" Her question was answered by Remy pressing his lips softly to hers. He started to pull away, but Rogue put her arms around his neck and pulled him back down.


	4. Dance

**Dance**

"Ah can't believe yah makin' meh do this."

"_Mais Cherie_, de prom is an important right o' passage. 'Sides, don' y' wan' t' see de looks on dere faces, when y' bring _moi_ t' de high school prom?"

"Ah guess it'll be pretteh funny." Rogue adjusted the long mesh sleeves of the top she wore under her dress, making extra sure they completely covered her arms, but Remy took her gloved hands in his.

"_Chere_, everyt'ing's fine. Wish yo' friends would hurry up, t'ough." Rogue still couldn't believe he had done this for them. Not only had he paid for her dress (see below) but also for Jean, Kitty and Wanda's, and for tuxes for the men. Rogue had only taken a short while to get ready, putting on the dress and doing her makeup. She had left her hair loose, and it fell into its natural waves. Kitty, Jean and Wanda, on the other hand, were taking ages. Now, Kitty and Jean Rogue could understand – those two were such girly girls it took them about a decade when dressing up for something important. Wanda, on the other hand? But that thought was interrupted by the arrival of the girls at the top of the staircase. Remy glanced at the other men who were waiting with him and Rogue, noting their jaw-dropped staring with no small enjoyment. There was a reason why he'd had Mercy on the phone when picking out the dresses. Of course, he too had been speechless when Rogue came down, but at least he didn't gape at her. Much.

Scott Summers was the first to snap out of the trance he was in.

"Uhh, so is anyone needing a lift with me and Jean?" he asked Kitty and Piotr, Wanda and St. John and Rogue and Remy.

"Well, Rogue 'n' Remy don'. We're goin' in de limo waitin' outside de gates. Don' suppose any of y' want t' join us?" Kitty squeaked and clapped her hands together.

"Remy, you're amazing!" She squealed.

"Ah think so." Rogue agreed, and pecked Remy on the lips. Remy, not satisfied with this, pulled off his bowtie and pressed it to her lips, kissing her through the fabric.

http:// .com/ upload/ Product/ 20099/ China_Elegant_Dark_Green_Beads_Evening_Gown_Prom_ **– Rogue's dress.**

http:// .com/ 6a4c811178031229754121/ **– Kitty's dress.**

http:// ./ acatalog/ **– Jean's dress.**

http:// ./ imggal/ r/ **– Wanda's dress**

**Any ideas for E?**


	5. Empty promises

**I'm not entirely sure when, or in which dimension this is set, but after Remy joins the X-men…you'll see.**

**Empty Promises**

Ah shoulda known that idiot would do this. It's part of his genetic make-up, Ah guess. Still, woulda been nahce if the last thing he'd said tah meh wasn't a lie, an empty promise.

"_Don' worry, _Cherie._ Remy'll be jus' fine. He won' leave y' all alone._"

Sure yah won't, Rems. Damn that bastard – no, not Remy. Ah still love the idiot too much for that. Damn that idiot with the gun, the stupid mutant-hater. Why? Why Remy? Outa all the mutants there, why my husband? Logan told me what had happened.

"_There wasn't anything any of us could do, Stripes. The guy came out of nowhere. It wasn't even a proper mission! All we were doin' was takin' Chuck to the press conference…"_

Sure, Logan. That helps a lot. Let meh know mah husband was killed in a freak accident. Really makes meh feel so much better abaht it.

Surrounded bah mah friends, but with somethin' missin'. Just lahke befoah he came, but so very, very worse. Befoah, Ah didn't know 'baht him, didn't know what Ah was missin'. There's a hole now, Ah can feel it inside meh, above mah heart. But underneath mah heart, there is still hope. A separate life, that is at the same time a part of meh, and a part of him. But there's no avoidin' it. The moment we separated, foah him tah go with the professah an' Logan. Ah coulda stopped him…

"_Remy don' have to go, Chére. He could stay here wit' y'."_

"_Stop bein' so lazy, sugah. All yah doin' is escortin' the professah tah a press conference. Don' tell meh yah scared!"_

"_Scared?" He puffed out his chest. "Remy LeBeau don' know the meanin' o' de word. J'taime, Chére."_

"_Yah make sure yah come back in one piece though, yah hear?"_

"_T'ought Remy was bein' scared? Don' worry, Cherie. Remy'll be jus' fine. He won' leave y' all alone."_

"_Yah bettah not, Swamp Rat."_

And then we shared our final kiss. Ah would lahke tah say it had been dramatic, but in truth it was a peck on the lips. So that's all Ah'm left with. An empty promise and a kiss.

**Argh! So angsty! Don't worry, F should be amusing – no, it isn't a swear word. Don't be rude.**


	6. French Test

**Rogue's thoughts are in **_italics_**, Remy's are **underlined**, mini-Remy's are **_both_**.**

**French Test**

"Hey Sugah." He came out from where he was doing…something to the underside of Scott's car. Better to not find out what.

_This feels so weird! It's _always_ the other way around – him chattin' meh up. Well, here goes nothing!_

"_Bonjour_, _ma Cherie_. Can Remy help y'?" He asked, wiping oily hands on a rag that was just as dirty.

"Well, there is just one thang…"

She's so _belle_. But knowin' Rogue, dere's a catch t' dis somewhere.

"Anyt'ing. Remy would go t' de end o' de world for y'."

_Cue the mental cringe._

_Aww, don' y' like m' lines, Chére?_

Ignoring the mental Remy, Rogue took a step closer to the real Cajun, who stepped backwards. She took another step, as did he. This continued until Remy was against the garage wall. He was suddenly looking very nervous.

"Y' gonna tell Remy what y' want, _Chére_?" He asked, edging sideways slightly. Rogue put her -bare- hands either side of his head.

"Ah want…no, Ah _need_ help with mah French test." Remy visibly relaxed.

Phew, she hasn' foun' out.

"Rem c'n do dat, _Chére_. He's fluent in French. Y' want t' get t'gether _après_ y' finished wit' school?"

"Actualleh, the test is today. So Ah need moah immediate help. Yah psyche said dere was only one way he'd help meh."

"An' dat was…? Remy can' do dat much fo' a psyche."

"Except make it strongah."

"An' how would he do dat?"

"Lahke this." Rogue pressed her lips to the Cajun's. After a half-second hesitation, Remy responded, kissing her back for as long as he could before he fell unconscious, which he did with a thump.

"Well, Rogue got no problem wit' de test now, do she?" Rogue muttered to herself, sliding on a pair of sunglasses to cover her new eyes.

_Now, what t' do wit' de body…_

_Remy got an idea, _Chére. _Consider it payback for de underwear._


	7. Grammar

**All-speaking. "one person talking" " " two people talking" "**

**Grammar**

"_Je t'aime_, _ma Cherie_. Y' know dere ain't not'in' in de world will keep me away."

"That'd be moah romantic if yah used proper grammar. Yah jus' said that there isn't nothing, yah know that?"

"Remy can't help it, _Cherie_. He blames his upbringing."

"And now yah talking in the third person! This ain't French yah talkin', Remy. Learn propah English, why don't yah!"

"Neither of ye speak proper English. Ye both got an American accent."

"Stay out of this, Rahne!"

"Ah was jist sayin'…"

"Actually, Rahne is right. None of us speak what could be called true English, which is also known as the Queen's English over in the United Kingdom. This can be found on BBC, or British Broadcasting Company. We have access to it on the television in the recreation room…"

_BAMF!_

_BAMF!_

"where did they all go?"

"Thank y', Kurt. Remy owes y' one."

"Same here, thanks Kurt."

"_Keine problem_. But, Remy, vhy are you talkink in de third person?"

"See? Kurt is actualleh from anothah country, but he can speak propah English."

"Well, Kurt wasn't raised on the streets, like Remy was. Remy can't help de fac' dat he wasn' taught how t' speak!"

" "Stop talking in the third person!" "

"_Non_, Remy likes it. He t'inks it makes him sound sexy."

_BAMF!_

"Well, he's wrong."

"_Non_, he's right. Remy's always right. It's part o' his charm."

"Will yah _please_ stop talkin' in the third person!"

"Hmm, maybe Remy will, if he can occupy his mouth in a differen' way."

"Yah want something tah eat?"  
"_Non_, Remy doesn'. He wants _un baiser_."

"Speak English, Swamp Rat."

"Remy wants a kiss, _Cherie_."

"Well, if it shuts yah up…"

_BAMF!_

"Hey, guys-urgh!"

_BAMF!_

**(1) Should be a word!**

**Any ideas for the next few?**


	8. Heat

**Just to warn you, I can't do a Russian accent.**

**Heat**

"No, yah can't make meh! Why does Bayville have tah be so damn cold?" Rogue complained as she shivered over a mug of coffee in the kitchen. She was wearing a thick green top, and thick dark trousers.

"Like, you should try being in Chicago in the winter, Rogue. The wind is _awful_!" Kitty replied from across the table. Rogue couldn't believe the girl was only wearing two layers of clothes. She herself was wearing four.

"Andvinter inn Russia is much colter. Ve are vell bellow freezink point." Piotr was defying the weather by simply turning into metal. He wasn't warm, but neither was he cold.

"_Non_, _chére_'s righ'. Winter up here is bloody freezin'." Remy, the only other southerner to stay at the mansion for Christmas, was wrapped up just like Rogue.

"Well, you should still come and have a snowball fight with us." Kitty urged Rogue, getting back to the point of the discussion.

"Ah would if yah could think of a way tah make snow warm. Y'all go an' enjoy yahselves." Rogue replied, taking a gulp of her coffee.

"Gambit? Vill you komm, comrade?"

"_Non, merci_, Pete. Remy fids dis weather far too cold t' go outside, let alone have frozen water t'rown at him." Remy shuddered dramatically. And so the two southerners were left alone. They could dimly hear the shouts from outside, where Kitty, Piotr, Bobby, Amara, Jean and Scott were having a vicious, powers inclusive snowball fight. By common agreement, the two moved to the warmer rec. room. According to Remy, however, it was still too cold to sit on separate chairs, so they shared the couch. The TV was full of cheesy Christmas movies, so it stayed off.

Time passed, and Rogue found herself curled up next to the Cajun. He claimed to be cold, but she felt heat exuding from him. She put her arm over his chest, and he turned to look at her, cocking his eyebrow.

"What y' doin', _Chére_?"

"Yah warm. Ah'm cold. Deal with it." Remy grinned, then quickly moved away from her, to the end of the couch.

"Hey! Get back here!"

"_Non_. Y' want warmth?"

"Of course! It's bloody freezin'!"

"Den give Remy _un baiser_."

_On the plus sahde, Ah'll be warmer. On the down sahde, Ah'll have tah kiss him…or is that a down sahde…no! Bad Rogue! On the plus sahde, he'll be unconscious. Which means he won't be talkin'. This deal is lookin' bettah an' bettah. An' not just 'cause Ah'll be kissin' Remy. Shut up, stupid brain!_

"Fahne, Ah'll kiss yah. But yah do realise it'll-"

"Knock Remy out, _oui_, he knows." Remy slid back down the couch to where Rogue sat, and pulled her onto his lap.

"Hey! Ah didn't agree tah this!"

"best way t' kiss on a couch, _chére_." He smoothly informed her, then touched his lips to hers, then took them off. Touched again, then drew back.

"Remy, what are yah doin'?" Rogue asked, denying how nice it felt to have his lips on hers, if only for a second or so.

"Y' mutation only kicks in if y' touch someone f'r over _dix_ seconds, righ'? Well, Remy figures dat if he only touches y' f'r a few seconds at a time, he c'n kiss y' wit'out gettin' knocked out, _non_?" Rogue rolled her eyes.

"No, Swamp rat. It don't work lahke that. If yah keep kissin' meh lahke that, it'll just build up tah ten seconds."

"Well, in dat case…" And then he pressed his lips to hers, getting as much out of his ten seconds as he could before…he slumped unconscious over the back of the couch. Rogue sighed, glanced quickly around to check for passing people, and then grinned widely. She pushed Remy down so he was lying along the length of the couch, and curled up next to him.

_Wow, he's a good kisser!_


	9. Ice Cream

**Ice Cream**

It was a bright, sunny day in Bayville. School was out, and the older students were spending some quality time together in town. To combat the heat, they' gotten ice creams, and were just finishing them off. Rogue had, typically, wandered away from the others, to be alone.

"_Chére_? What y' doin' here?" A smooth but surprised Cajun voice made Rogue look up.

"Ah'm gettin' ice cream, Swamp rat, what does it look lahke?" She drawled. "It should be meh askin' what yah doin' here. Why ain't yah holed up in some top-secret base somewhere?" Gambit shrugged.

"John needed _un noveau_ lighter, an' he ain't allowed out by hisself no more, so Gambit had t' come." He paused, and then added, "did y' know y' got ice cream on y' nose?"

"What? Ah-no." Rogue muttered, glad that her thick makeup hid her blush. Then she remembered. Kitty had convinced her to leave most of it off, saying it was too hot. Without it, she felt defenceless. Embarrassed, Rogue moved to wipe off the offending ice cream, but Remy caught her hand and gently tugged it down.

"Allow me, _Chére_." He whispered. Leaning close, he carefully wiped off the ice cream…with his tongue. Rogue yelped and jumped backwards.

"_Pardon-moi, Cherie_, Gambit didn' mean t' scare y'." Rogue glowered at him.

"Yah didn' scare meh, but it ain't exactly safe foah yah tah be touchin' mah skin." Gambit smirked.

"Aww, I knew y' cared 'bout dis 'ere Cajun." Rogue snorted, and tipped the rest of her ice cream over his head.

"Aah! What y' do dat fo'?" Remy cried out, brushing melting chocolate ice cream out of his hair.

"Ah'm the Rogue, Swamp rat. Yah don' know what Ah'm gonna do." She replied, then grabbed his coat lapels and pulled him closer, stretching up to place a quick kiss on his lips. She then turned and walked off to join the other X-men, leaving Gambit, bewildered and more than a little confused, brown ice cream dripping over his ear.

**Any ideas for J?**


	10. Je t'aime

**Thank you for all your suggestions, but for J I'm gonna go with:**

**Je t'aime**

"_Chére, _we known each ot'er f'r some time now, _oui_?"

"Yeah, Ah guess. Evah since yah tried tah blow mah hand off…" She grinned up at him. They were lying on her bed, his arm around her, both propped up on the cushions. They were obeying Logan's unofficial rule in that the door was open, but they were in Remy's secluded room for a reason. After the brief thieving war that started between Bobby and Remy when he first arrived, people left this room well alone. Remy rolled his eyes.

"_Non Cherie,_ Remy was meanin' since we been goin' out."

"Oh. Yeah, Ah guess. What is it now, two months?"

"_Chére, _it's been half a year."

"Onleh ahn tuesdeh." She replied automatically. Then smiled sheepishly.

"Remy can do better. At 10:30 on Tuesday de 14th March, 2009, he asked y' out for de twelfth time. Y' finally said _oui_, t' get m' t' shut up, I t'ink. It now 12th September, 2009. So Remy t'inks enough time 'as passed fo' him t' tell y' somet'ing dat he knew at de beginning."

"Go ahn, then."

"It's just dat…_Chére, je t'aime_."

"Yah…yah do?" Rogue asked, shocked. She stared up at him in surprise. Remy's face fell slightly.

"_Oui_, bu' it's fine if y' don' feel the same way."

"Don't feel the same way? Remy, Ah-"

"_Non, _it's alrigh' _Chére_. Remy shouldn't 'ave-"

"Shut up and listen, Swamp rat!" She exclaimed, sitting up and turning to face him.

"Ah do 'feel the sahme way'. Ah've 'felt tha sahme way' foah a while now. Just because Ah'm surprised when yah go '_Chére, je t'aime_' don't mean Ah don' 'feel tha sahme wahy' abaht yah!" She told the Cajun, southern accent becoming more and more pronounced as she continued.

"Well den, guess dere's only one t'ing dis Cajun can do." Remy answered calmly.

"What's that?" He pulled her back down so they were lying next to each other.

"Close y' eyes." She did, and felt his breath, warm on her cheek. He kissed it gently, then ran his mouth down her jaw line, and back up. He kissed gently down the side of her neck, and then lifted his mouth away from her.

"Hey! Git back here!" Remy complied, brushing his mouth down her jaw, then softly kissing her forehead, nose, and finally her mouth.

**K ideas, anyone?**


	11. Kinetic energy

**I will say it yet again for those of you who haven't been paying attention. THESE ARE ONE-SHOTS. THEY ARE NOT RELATED TO EACH OTHER. Okay?**

**Kinetic energy**

"_Chére_? What y' doin' up so late?" Rogue jumped at the sound of the Cajun voice behind her. She turned reluctantly from the fridge, full of leftovers from the dinner she'd missed thanks to Logan's extra training session.

"Ah could ask yah the same question." She replied, crossing her arms. Remy, however, merely grinned and walked casually over to her. He stopped too close for her to be comfortable, but with her back against the fridge, there was nothing she could do about that.

"Remy was lookin' fo' his _Chére_. She wasn' at dinner, nor was she in her room."

"So yah stalkin' meh." Not a question, but an accusation. Rogue took an experimentary step sideways, but he followed. She was still in the same position, the only thing that had changed was that the counter was now behind her rather than the fridge.

"Well, Remy wouldn' call it stalkin', 'xactly. He wants t' talk t' y' alone… _actualement_, now would be a good time."

"What do yah wanna talk abaht?" She asked dubiously. When he had first arrived at the mansion, their first talk had gone along the lines of,

"_Will y' go out wit' moi?"_

"_No."_

"_Pour quoi?"_

"_Ah can't touch, yah'll get boahd in a relationship without touch."_

"_Remy don't t'ink so."_

"_Well Remy's wrong."_

However, for some inexplicable reason Remy didn't seem to think that this was the end of the discussion. Over the year he'd been at the Mansion, he'd approached Rogue and asked her out, over and over, much to her and Logan's annoyance. She had a feeling that this was a repeat of the topic.

"Remy's been practicin' sometin' wit' his powers dat he'd like t' show y'." Oh. Well, this was unexpected.

"Would yah mind takin' a step back while yah abaht it?"

"_Oui_, Remy would mind. Now, y' know Remy produces bio-kinetic energy on his skin? Well, he's been practisin' and he can keep a layer of it on, f'r _dix minutes_ at a time." As he spoke, his skin started glowing a gentle magenta.

"Great tah know, Swamp rat. But how is this in any way useful or interestin'?" Instead of answering, Remy leaned his head in closer. Rogue moved hers back in response, but he put his hand on theback of her head, holding it in place.

"Ssh, _Chére._ Relax." Gently, Remy put his other, bare, glowing hand on her cheek, and held it there. After a second, Rogue tried to pull away, feeling her powers kicking in.

"Get away, Ah'm absorbin'-" She started but was cut off,

"Remy's bio-kinetic energy, _Chére_. Dat's all." Her eyes slowly widened as she began to realise the full implications of this new-found power of Remy's. Pulling off one of her gloves, she reached up and touched Remy's cheek. He leant into her touch, and she trailed her fingertips down, over his cheek, to rest next to his lips. He turned his head and kissed them softly, then placed her arm around his neck and gently kissed her lips. Rogue put her other, gloved hand around his neck too, and ran her fingers through the short hair at the base of his scalp. He put his hands on her waist, and continued kissing her, until he let out a strangled gasp and pulled away. Damn her powers.


	12. Love

**Love**

"Remy love y', y' love Remy. He don' see what so complicated 'bout dat."

"Apaht from the fact that Ah'm an X-man and yah..what are yah now, exactly? Yah ain't an Acolyte no moah, and yah said yah exiled frahm N'Awlins…"

"Remy not entirely sure what he is, _Chére_. He unemployed, wit' no family, he a mutant, he _un home_ wit' _une belle_ girlfriend." They were sitting in a small café in Bayville. Yet again, Rogue was trying to convince the two of them that they should break up.

"If Logan found out we were datin'…"

"Remy can 'andle 'isself 'gainst _Monsieur _Claws. Y' don' need t' worry 'bout dat."

"Then if yah won't break up, and Ah won't leave the X-men tah be with yah, will yah join the X-men?"

Remy's resulting laughter turned heads in the previously quiet café.

"Ah don't see what's so funneh about it. Yah would make a good X-man."

"Oh, _oui_, Remy can see it now. Gambit, Prince o' T'ieves, former Acolyte o' Magneto, exiled from his home city 'cause he killed 'is ex-fiancé's brother – upstandin' X-man, hero, champion o' human rights. 'Cause dey all fit together _so well_." Which was Gambit's normal response to this suggestion. Whether it was made by Rogue, Colossus, Rogue, Professor Xavier, Rogue…Rogue suggested it a lot.

"Listen up, Swamp rat. Yah may not think yah cut out tah be an X-man, but do yah honestly think Ah'm prime hero material? Ah was raised by a terrorist, foah goodness sake. Compared tah that, a group of thieves don't look so much, does it? An' besides, Ah know yah gonna cave eventually, 'cause the professor saw yah with us, when he saw the future 'cause of Apocalypse."

"Hmm. Tell y' what, Remy will t'ink about it, _d'accord_? But he's got t' go now." Standing up, Remy counted out the cost of their drinks from what Rogue presumed was (and probably wasn't) his wallet.

"No kiss?" Rogue asked him. Remy quickly pecked her cheek.

"_Je t'aime_, _Chére_. Got t' go."

**Yeah, not much romy, but I'm running out of ideas! Anyone got an M?**


	13. Master Thief

**Master Thief**

He inspected the shoulder-high grille carefully, greased the bottom-left bolt, and gently charged the other three. There was a muffled bang, and it swung open on the greased bolt. Remy lifted himself up and through the hole, pulling the grill back loosely behind him. It led into a small, dark room, full of machines, but he avoided all obstacles with ease, red-on-black eyes seeing easily in the blackness. The door was almost embarrassingly easy to unlock – the lock was designed to keep people out of this room, not in, but Remy wasn't interested in the information on the mansion's computers. His prize this night was far more important.

Making his way through the lower floor, he reached the staircase. Quickly ascending, Remy followed the path he had memorised the previous day. Finally, he reached the right room. Bringing his picks out of a pocket hidden in the lining of his duster, he picked the lock, opened the door, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him again.

Automatically, the thief in him scanned the room; two beds, both occupied, a door – leading to a bathroom, and a large window. The window was deceptively bare – Remy knew from experience that it was heavily guarded – thanks to his night-time exploits. But, and this was the main thing, only from the outside. Remy walked swiftly over to the bed to the right of him, put his fully-gloved hand over the mouth of the occupant, and shook them gently by the shoulder. Green eyes started open. A mouth opened to scream, then curved into a smile. Remy took his hand away, and then beckoned her over to the window. Silently unlatching it, he stepped out onto the balcony, closely followed by Rogue, who had stopped briefly to pick up the coat that had been waiting on the bedpost.

"Ah got yah card." She whispered, pulling the Queen of Hearts out of the pocket. It had become a habit for them; during the day he'd 'case the joint', leaving his signature card somewhere she would get it – usually on her bed, or in the locker containing her uniform. Then, that night, he would come and pick her up, and they'd go on a trip somewhere; normally to New Orleans or some other Southern city.

The two walked over to the edge of the balcony, and Remy carefully lowered Rogue down, before jumping down himself, and landing lightly on his feet. They stole across the grass to the gates, which they scaled, and then both climbed onto Remy's motorbike.

"How long do yah think it'll take befoah they realise we've gone?" Rogue asked him. Remy grinned back at her.

"Remy's t'inkin' in a few seconds." He pulled a card out from his coat pocket, turned around on the motorbike, and placed it on her lips, kissed it, and then stuck it in the hinge of the gate.

"_Au revoir_, mutant mansion!" He called out, revving up the bike and zooming off, to the background noise of an angry Wolverine's growl.


	14. Nicotine and Nightmares

**Nicotine and Nightmares**

Aah. That was better. Remy sat on the roof, breathing the sweet smoke from his cigarette. There was a slight noise behind him, as if someone had landed softly on the tiles. There were only four people Remy knew at the mansion who could do that, and only one he could think of who would be out at night.

"_Bonjour, Chére._ What y' doin' up so late?" He asked in his smooth Louisianan accent. He heard soft footsteps approaching him. She sat down next to him, on the ledge.

"How d'yah know it's meh?" She replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. He shifted position, putting his arm around her.

"Well, it coulda been y', Stormy, Jeanny or Wings. Bucket-head is too heavy t' land so quietly, an' none of de ot'ers would be up at-" He checked his watch "-one in de mornin'. So, I'll repeat m' question. What y' doin' up so late?"

"Every nahgt, Ah watch mah parents die in an aeroplane, Ah'm in the holocaust, Ah have adamantium injected intah mah bones, mah father and brother abandon meh at a mental home, mah powahs are activated by watchin' mah best friend be hit by a car, mah half-brother tries tah kill meh, mah mother drops meh off a bridge intah a river, an' . Ah don' really lahke sleepin'."

Remy stared at her in new admiration.

"Y' go t'rough all dat, every night?" She nodded. He pulled her around so she was lying with her head in his lap.

"Get some sleep, _Chére_. Remy will wake y' if y' start havin' nightmares." Rogue struggled for a bit, but he held her still. Finally, she succumbed.

"But, how will yah know if Ah have a nightmare?" She yawned, curling into him.

"Remy's got his empathy, remember, _Chére_? Now, go t' sleep, _d'accord_?" Rogue nodded, and Remy lightly kissed the top of her head.

"_Bon nuit_, an' _rêves plaisants_."

**rêves plaisants is pleasant dreams in French. Anyone got any ideas for O?**


	15. Opposing the Paternal Figure

**Opposing the Paternal Figure**

"So? Will y' go out wit' me?" Remy repeated his question, ignoring the glares coming at him across the dinner table from Wolverine.

"No, she won't." The Canadian man snarled. Bad decision. Rogue's eyes flashed.

"What business is it of yah's?" She asked Logan angrily.

"He ain't good for ya, Stripes."

"Ah think Ah'm old enough tah decide that foah mahself, Logan."

"You're eighteen!"

"Exactleh! Jus' 'cause Ah'm a girl doesn't mean yah have tah 'protect' meh from anything! An'besides, it ain't jus' me in here. Even if Ah don't have…experience in this area, Ah'm probableh the closest a girl has evah got tah understanding what goes on in a guy's head – 'cause Ah've got several in mah head, includin' yah and him."

"I don't see what having my psyche has anything to do with-"

"Yah both moah similar than either of yah would care tah admit." Wolverine growled at this, while Remy merely smirked. As long as Wolverine kept up the protective father act, he was sure to win.

"Yah know what?" Rogue asked Wolverine, then turned to face Remy, "Yes, Sugah, Ah will go out with yah."

"_Bien_." Remy grinned at her, lifted her hand and lightly kissed her gloved fingers, to the sound of Wolverine growling irritably.


	16. Practice

**Practice**

"Yah out of yahr mahnd, Swamp rat. No way in hell am Ah gonna do that." Rogue told him as she strode angrily down a corridor in the

"_Mais, Chére_, it'll help y' control y' powers! De _professeur_ hisself said so!" Remy jogged after her, trying to persuade the Southern girl to his point of view.

"Yeah, Ah guess yah're rahght…" Rogue agreed, slowing down. Then she stopped dead, turned to face Remy, and growled at him.

"Ah thought we agreed yah were nevah gonna use that on meh 'gain. Ah'm warning yah Swamp rat…" Remy held his hands up in a sign of innocence, but the sparkle in his demonic eyes said otherwise.

"_Pardon moi_, _Chére, mais_ dis 'ere Cajun jus' wants t' help y' as much as he can. Consider it payment fo' kidnapping y'." But she still shook her head, arms crossed.

"When mah powers activated, Ah put a boy in a coma. Ah promised Ah'd nevah do that again tah anyone Ah ca-" She broke off, and looked away. If she hadn't been wearing such thick make-up, Remy would have seen a red flush cross her cheeks. As it was, his empathy told him enough. He grinned widely.

"Aww, _Chére_, didn' know y' had feelin's fo' dis 'ere Swamp rat."

"Ah have a vague feelin' of disgust, if that's what yah mean."

"Heh. _Non_, _Chére_, what Remy meant was dat y' care fo' him."

"No, Ah'm pretteh sure Ah don't."

"Y' c'n lie t' y'self all y' want _Chére_, but y' can' lie t' an empath."

"Fahne then! Ah'll touch yah! Whatevah, Ah don' care!" To Rogue's anger and, if she would only admit it, amusement, the Cajun's infuriating grin widened slightly.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much." He quoted, eyes sparkling one again. But this time it was with triumph rather than mischief. Rogue allowed herself to be led to his room by the Cajun, who insisted that 'if 'm goin' t' collapse, might as well do it on m' bed, _hein_?'. Upon finally reaching his room, Rogue sat on the chair and held out her hand, de-gloved.

"Touch meh then." She said disinterestedly, looking out of the window as she did. As a result, Remy's soft lips on her palm came as some of a surprise. She jerked her head back around, just in time to receive those same lips on hers. Neither of them were expecting her reaction. Instead of pushing him off, as the southern pair expected, her hands came to rest on his chest. Seeing this as a sign of permission, Remy deepened the kiss, putting his own half-gloved hands lightly on either of her cheeks. After continuing in this way for a while, Remy lifted his face from hers.

"See,_ Chére_? Remy told y' practisin' would help." He told her confidently, then collapsed to the floor.

**Qs?**


	17. Questions

**Questions**

Questions. Or rather – one question. One that can be asked in so many ways, and the answer to which would shape his – and her – life forever. So many things he had to get right. The right words, the right way to say them, the right location…everything has to be perfect. He had called his brother for advice, but that was no use – after avoiding the subject, Henri had finally admitted that Mercy had proposed to him!

In the end, it came down to two very simple options: romantic and personal, or loud and flashy? He was leaning towards the second – a large declaration of love, something big and dramatic…then again, this was Rogue he was thinking of. She'd prefer a quiet, romantic scene – maybe in that gazebo she liked so much? Yes, that would work. As for the ring, he'd brought it with him from New Orleans. It wasn't a family heirloom or anything – he didn't consider himself belonging to that family, so it wouldn't be appropriate. No, it was something more personal than that. It was the first time he'd been arrested for robbery, when he first tried to steal this ring. Once released, however, he went back and got it. He _had_ been going to give it to Belladonna, but…well, that didn't turn out so well.

"Are yah gonna tell meh why we're here or not? As much as Ah lahke this gazebo, it's February, Swamp rat. Or hadn't yah noticed?" Rogue asked him, shivering and rubbing her arms. Remy turned from where he'd been looking out over the cliff.

"_Chére_, we been t'gether fo' _deux_ years now. Y' know how I feel 'bout y', an' fo' some reason y' feel de same way."

"Ah do – yah know Ah love yah. Get on with it alreadeh, Ah'm freezin'!"

"Well, it comes down t' dis, _Cherie_. I don' have much t' offer y', 'cept what I c'n steal, I don' have _une famille_ I'm proud of, nor a good job."

"Gee, Sugah, is there anything yah do have?" She rolled her eyes, still shivering, the sarcasm plain in her voice. It was quite a surprise therefore when he dropped to one knee and took a small, black, silky bag out of his duster pocket.

"I got a ring, _Chére_. Techniq'lly, it don' belong t' me, but if a River rat would wear it, she'd make dis Swamp rat de happiest man alive. He slipped the ring out of the bag and held it, ready, on his palm.

"Remy! But yah know we can't…Ah mean, Ah still haven't…"

"I know y' can't touch, _Chére_, but I don' care. _Je t'aime, ma Cherie_." He knelt for a while, waiting, while she stared at the ring in his hand and all the implications behind it.

"_Chére_? As y' pointed out earlier, it's kinda cold. Could Remy have an answer sometime soon?"

"Y…yes! Yes, yes, yes!" Rogue cried happily, holding out her hand to him. He slipped the ring on her gloved finger and stood up. Rogue moved to head inside, but he stopped her.

"De bag is special also, _Chére_." He told her,and pulled the ties out, making the sides of the bag part, so he was left with a piece of thin material about the size of his hand.

"Close y' eyes, Rogue." She complied, and felt a soft pressure on her lips. It was the unfolded bag. An instant later, the pressure was firmer, and she felt his lips through the fabric. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Rogue forgot all about the cold.


	18. Resistance is Futile

**Resistance is futile**

They'd been dating for three months now, and Remy's resolve was weakening. She could see it. It wasn't that he was getting bored of _her_, or that he wanted to touch _other_ girls, he wanted her. All of her. And, if she would admit it, she'd be more than willing…if only it wouldn't be potentially fatal for him. But the whole 'no-touchy' rule was beginning to wear off. No…accidents had happened yet, and so he was gaining confidence, stroking her hair, touching her face with the back of his gloved hand…so when it came, she had to admit she was expecting it.

Rogue was walking down a corridor in the mansion when suddenly an arm reached out from the doorway of a closet and pulled her in. She struggled, but the smell of spices and cigarettes made her stop. Instead she turned to face her captor, who had just shut the closet door, and whispered angrily;

"What tha hell d'yah think yah doin', Swamp Rat?" His only answer was a finger placed softly on her lips. She pulled her head back automatically, before remembering that he had taken to wearing full gloves, rather than just the normal fingerless ones.

"'m tired o' dis, _Cherie_. I don' care 'bout de consequences. Jus' _une petite bisou_…" Rogue leaned back further, and reached for the door of the closet.

"Ah don't care how romantic yah think this closet is, Cajun, Ah ain't abaht tah render another boy unconscious. Besides, can yah jus' think what Logan would say if he found us here? Alone together, in a closet?"

"Remy not afraid o' your _Monsieur_ Logan. He don' scare dis Cajun none." Her Swamp Rat replied, sliding his arm around her waist, and pulling her close again. He bent down so his face was right in front of hers, and she found herself captivated once more by those beautiful, glowing eyes, that the silly boy believed to be a curse of all things!

"_Ma Chére?_" Damn, he was breaking out his ultimate weapon. Rogue couldn't resist him when he spoke in French, he was already to attractive to begin with, but to add a weapon like that to his arsenal was just unfair. "_S'il vous plait,_ _Cherie_? _Un petit baiser ne fera pas mal. S'il vous plait…"_ Rogue could feel her resolve crumbling, and the fact that he was gently kissing his way up her gloved arm didn't help much, either.

"Remy…" It was meant to sound cautionary, but was really only a murmur. "Stop it."

"I don' t'ink y' really want dat, do y' _Cherie_?"

"Uuh…yes?" He carried on trailing kisses up above her elbow.

"Y' sure, _ma Chére_?" He continued up, and Rogue was grateful she had been wearing a high-necked top as he planted a final kiss on the side of her neck.

"Hey!" She complained, as he lifted his lips away from her. Remy grinned, and pressed his warm lips to hers. When her powers kicked in, he tilted his head back and said woozily,

"Knew y' couldn' resist, _Cherie_."

**Translation: Please, Darling? A little kiss won't hurt. Please…**


	19. Shutting Remy up

**Shutting Remy up**

Rogue didn't know how the Cajun currently staying at the mansion could possibly think that old, cheesy pick-up lines would possibly help him to win her affection, but he had currently taken to using them whenever he saw her. So she avoided him whenever possible. Unfortunately, Remy being a thief, on his first day at the mansion he had gone over the entire building, sussing out 'escape routs', or so he claimed. Currently, Rogue had gone up to the roof for some alone time, although once again Remy had put his thief skills to use, and scaled the building.

She was finishing off the sachet of sugar she had…borrowed from the kitchen when his annoying voice came from behind her. "_Bonjour, ma Chére_. I'm lost…can y' give me directions to y' room?"

"No, but Ah'll give yah directions tah Logan's." Came her prompt reply. Infuriatingly, all the Cajun did was walk over to where she sat on the edge of the roof.

"Is dis seat taken?" He asked, indicating the space next to her.

"No, and this one won't be either if yah sit down." He sat anyway and, to her horror and fury, pulled her onto his lap. "What the hell do yah think yah doin'?" She shouted, pushing him away and going back to her original seat.

"Well, y' said dat seat would be empty, so Remy helped y' wit' dat." He paused speculatively for a moment, then added, "Hasn't Remy seen y' somewhere before?" Rolling her eyes, Rogue replied,

"Yeah, and that's why Ah don't go there no more."

"Y' know _Cherie_, y' eyes are amazin'."

"Seein' yah back would be pretty amazin'." In response, Remy pulled off his t-shirt and twisted where he sat, exposing his naked back to her, then turned back to face her again. Seemingly of their own accord, Rogue's eyes flashed to his abdomen. _Holy cow he has a six-pack!_ In fact, the whole of his torso was incredibly well toned. He didn't have bulky muscles like Colossus, but Rogue was willing to bet there wasn't any fat on him at all; his muscles were clearly defined, and looked rock hard. She looked up, realising he'd said something.

"What was that, Swamp Rat?" She asked.

"I said, 'I've taken off somet'in', now it's your turn. If I could see y' naked, I'd die happy."

"Well, if Ah could see yah naked, Ah'd probably die laughing." She retorted, ignoring the numerable voices in her head shouting '_liar!_'

"I don' t'ink y' tellin' de trut', _ma Chére_. Tell me, did it hurt?"

"Wh…what?" What the hell was he on about?

"When y' fell out o' heaven. Dit it hurt?"

"'Bout as much as it hurt when yah got kicked out of hell, Swamp Rat."

"Ah, _Cherie_, where y' bin all m' life?"

"Hidin' frahm yah."

"_Cherie_, Remy knows how t' please _une fille_."

"Then would yah PLEASE go away?"

"Remy would go t' de ends of de eart' fo' y'."

"Would yah stay there?" Rogue injected some enthusiasm into her voice at this. Finally, peace and quiet! But it was not to be.

"I don' know, here Remy is, tryin' t' be a sout'ern gentleman…"

"And failing miserably." Was Rogue's comment.

"I would die for y'_ Cherie_…"

"Prove it." To her surprise, he got up.

"Fine. I will." And he stepped off the side of the building.

"_Oh mah God, Remy_!" Rogue screamed, and leant over the side… to see him standing calmly on the balcony she had forgotten was there.

"So y' do care, _Cherie_." He grinned up at her.

"Get lost." Was the Mississippian's eloquent reply.

"Already have, _ma Chére_. In y' eyes. Mind lendin' Remy a map?"

"Only map Ah've got foah yah leads off that balcony."

"_Bien_. Your place or mine?"

"How abaht both? Yah go tah yoahs and Ah'll go tah mahne." And she got up and stepped away from the roof, dusting herself off. Immediately, Remy vaulted nimbly back onto the roof.

"Don' go, _Chére_, fun's jus' gettin' started. _Voulez-vous vous coucher avec moi?_" He asked, looking around for her. Feeling a tap on his shouder, Remy turned around.

"Ah would, Swamp Rat, but Ah've got nothang tah wear." She told him, then kissed him on the lips. He dropped to the roof, unconscious.

"Now mebbe he'll shut up fo' a while."

**Translation: **_Voulez-vous vous coucher avec moi?_ **Means 'would you like to go to ****bed**** with me tonight ?'**


	20. Trench Coat

**In this one, Rogue has control over her powers.**

**Trench Coat**

She loved the smell of him, but heaven forbid she admit it out loud. For one thing, Logan would kill him. For another, Kurt would teleport to get there first. And the final reason was that _he_ would know. And she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. So instead of admitting that she thought he smelled delicious, a mixture of tobacco, spices and bourbon, she would deliberately go out of her way to go out in the cold wearing thin clothes, so he, the southern gentleman, would be forced to lend her his coat; and she could breathe in his delicious spicy aroma. Part of her was angry at her for this weakness, while other, louder parts were cheering her on.

"_Ma Chére?"_ His southern drawl came from behind her; they were in the library, and she was sitting curled up on her favourite window seat, book in hand. Ignoring him, Rogue continued to read, until a package was dumped into her lap, knocking the book out of her hand.

"Hey! Watch it, Swamp Rat!" Remy ignored this outburst, and sat down on the seat next to her.

"Y' don' know when 'xactly y' birt'day is, do y'?" He asked her. On receiving an irritated shake of the head, he continued. "Well, Remy decided it's today. Open y' present!" Rogue pulled off the – badly wrapped – paper on the large, squishy package so rudely dumped on her lap to reveal…a coat.

"Uh, thanks, Swamp Rat." Rogue mumbled, putting it on. It was, she saw, a leather trench coat, not unlike the one Professor Xavier had described her wearing in his vision of the future. Well, she no longer wore gloves, so maybe it was about time she got the coat. But now Rogue was faced with a terrible prospect. She was no longer able to 'borrow' Remy's coat! How would she survive?

Luckily, Rogue had a perfect poker face. Not one of these thoughts betrayed her as she thanked him politely, and kissed him on the cheek. Now, she had to face what she had been dreading for a little over a year. She would have to confess…that she liked him.

**So what do you think? Not very focused around the kiss, I know. V,W, X and Z still needed!**


	21. Umbrella

**Umbrella**

Rogue's POV

_Oh, great. It's pouring with rain. How am Ah gonna get back tah the mansion in this? Rain ain't exactly perfect motorcycle weather, and Ah am not walkin'. Besides, Ah'd have tah leave the bike here, and Logan would kill meh for leaving mah bike out in the rain. Ah'm gonna have tah wheel it back._

Nearly back at the mansion, Rogue was drenched in freezing mid-January rain. Her thick winter coat had rivulets of water running down it, water that had already seeped through to the inside. Her legs, which the coat did not cover, were almost numb. She was praying that her beloved bike – an eighteenth birthday present from Logan – would be OK, although it, too, was drenched. Suddenly, the rain pounding down on her stopped. Looking up, Rogue saw a large green umbrella. She turned to the person holding it, thanks and relief plain on her face, until she saw…

"You!" With a growl that would have made Logan proud, she pushed at him. Stupid acolyte with his stupid umbrella. "What do yah want?" She asked angrily.

"Well, I was walkin' along, mindin' m' own business, when I saw a beautiful girl wit' sleek curves out in de rain. She was soakin'! So I came over, an' covered her wit' m' umbrella. Nex' time y' take her out, mebbe y' should bring a cover, or at least an umbrella wit' y'." Rogue blinked in confusion. Slowly, it dawned on her.

"Are yah talkin' abaht…mah bike?"

"Of course!" They spent the rest of the journey in silence. Only Remy himself knew what he was thinking, but Rogue was trying hard to remember who the man walking next to her holding the umbrella was.

_He's Remy Lebeau. He's a thief, an acolyte…he almost blew yoah damn hand off! Stop thinking how nice it was of him tah walk yah back home…or how good lookin' he is…focus on the facts. Anyway,a guy lahke him wouldn't be interested in yah. Yah can't touch, remembah?_

"_Cherie._ We're here. I'm afraid y'll have t' go by y'self fo' the rest o' de way. Remy ain't so welcome up dere." And, before she could stop him, he leant down and gave her a swift kiss on the lips. She blinked in surprise and, when she opened her eyes, he was gone. Rogue rolled her eyes, walked the remainder of the way to the gate, and pressed the intercom button.

"It's meh, Ah'm cold an' wet an' so is mah motorbike. Let meh in. Now."

"Goot evenink, younk lady." Someone said in a thick Transylvanian accent, apparently ignoring what she had said. "Velkom to Xavier's House of Horror. It is goot to get some new blood."

"Bobby, let meh in or Ah'll tell Logan yah've been abusin' the intercom again."

"Fine…" The gate swung inward.

**I need a Z!**


	22. Vows

**Rogue still has her powers**

**Vows**

She couldn't believe they had made it this far. She felt certain either Logan or Kurt would have killed him when he discovered they had been dating, but thankfully Remy had chosen the best time to announce the fact.

_They were all seated at the dining room table, enjoying the meal. It had been Remy's turn to cook…and man, he could cook! He always made southern recipes – jambalaya, gumbo, spicy chicken… the list seemed never to end. This had helped him to bond quickly with the X-men – he took over Kitty's nights. Anyway there they all were, eating gumbo, and Wolverine had his 'I'm almost happy' face on. She guessed Remy had used his empathy to select the best time, at which he took her left hand under the table, slipped on the ring that already technically belonged to her, and lifted her hand onto the table. It had taken a while for anyone to notice, until Kurt glanced at her over the table, and choked on a piece of meat. But it had turned out OK. Jean was annoyed because Rogue was getting married first – Scott had not yet plucked up the courage to give her the ring Remy had seen on Cyclops' bedside table._

But now, in this beautiful cathedral in Jackson, Mississippi, the time had come. Rogue walked slowly down the aisle on Logan's arm to 'Wagner's Wedding March'. Kitty and Tabby walked behind them, holding Rogue's train. Tabby had smartened up remarkably for the occasion, and had even consented to wear the pale green dress picked out for her by Kitty. Rogue's dress was carefully chose to be worn with matching, arm-length gloves.

When they reached the altar, Rogue pushed back her veil, and grasped Remy's hand; and the priest began to speak. Rogue still couldn't believe that Remy had managed to get a _cathedral_ for their wedding. And, to be honest, she didn't even want to consider how much money it had cost… Remy squeezed her hand slightly, and Rogue started paying attention again. The priest had started the vows.

"In the presence of God and befoah these witnesses" He began, his Mississippian accent matching Rogue's. Remy repeated the words.

"I, Remy Etienne LeBeau take y'. Anne-Marie Darkholm t' be m' wife, t' have an' t' hold fr'm dis day forward, fo' better, fo' worse; fo' richer fo' poorer; in sickness an' in health; in joy an' in sorrow; t' love an' t' cherish; an' t' be faithful t' y' alone, as long as we bot' shall live."

And then it was Rogue's turn.

"In the presence of God and befoah these witnesses, Ah, Anne-Marie Darkholm take yah Remy Etienne LeBeau tah be mah husband, tah have and tah hold frahm this day forward, foah better, foah worse; foah richer, foah poorer; in sickness and in health; in joy and in sorrow; tah love and tah cherish; and tah beh faithful tah yah alone, as long as we both shall live."

The rest of the service passed in a bit of a blur for Rogue. She was aware of Colossus and Kitty giving them the rings, and the exchange, and then the priest saying something. When he did, Remy paused for a moment, then pulled her veil down over her face, and kissed her.

**Copy and paste these to see:**

**./bridalwear/thumbnails/Y1811crop_ Rogue's dress**

**.com/03/!BcNqUT!BGk~$(KGrHqIOKiwEq4bSsd8jBKzg-uUMiQ~~_ Gloves**

**.com/ImageGallery/store/product/MediumLarge/4/_ Tabby's dress**

**. Kitty's dress**

**./maps?hl=en&tab=wl the church**

**Phew, this one took a long time to write! Thank you for your patience…I hate science exams. :(**


	23. Waffles

**I'm back! Exams are over, so it's time to celebrate…by writing fanfiction. I'm addicted, and I don't care!**

**Waffles**

Most of the younger X-men were clustered around the entrance to the kitchen, staring longingly inside. Remy, checking the breakfast waffles he was toasting in the oven, steadily ignored them. Jean was doing him a big favour, by putting up one of her invisible shields in the doorway. Nightcrawler had tried to teleport inside, but a few charged cards had put an end to that. Gambit was sure the burn marks on the roof tiles would come off. But now the waffles were ready, and the group clustered about the door sighed as he took them out. They were a beautiful golden brown, the half-melted sugar on top shining. Tossing them from hand to hand, Remy juggled the hot waffles onto a plate, which was sitting on a tray along with a tall glass of orange juice, a knife and fork and a napkin. Remy winked at Jean, who was waiting for the signal, and the mansion's doors slammed open. The waffles' fan group turned automatically to see what was making the loud noise, and when they turned back, both Remy and the waffles were long gone. He wasn't a thief for nothing, after all.

_Rat-a-tat tat!_

The knocking sounded loud on Rogue's door, and her response was to groan, roll over, and pull the blankets over her head. The knock came again.

_Rat-a-tat tat!_

"Go awa'. Ah'm not awake yet." Rogue growled, but the door opened anyway, and a delicious scent wafted through the air. Eyes still closed, Rogue's nose twitched.

"_Bonjour_, _ma chére_. Y' like waffles?" Rogue lifted a hand and wiggled it in the air, to indicate that they were alright. "Y' want dese? Remy made 'em for y'." No response. A slight pressure on the bed indicated that Remy had sat himself down. "Dey look _deliceux_. Y' sure y' don't want none?" Again, there was no response. However, Rogue's head snapped up, eyes wide open when she heard a crunching sound.

"Those are mahne!" She said, but the Cajun was grinning, and holding the glass cup in his hand. In it, an ice cube chinked against the side as it floated on the orange juice. Lifting the glass to his lips, Remy caught the ice cube and held it between his teeth, slowly crunching down. The waffles lay on the plate, untouched. "Damn Swamp Rat." Rogue muttered, pulling the tray towards herself.

"Is dat any way t' treat de man who made y' waffles? Y' know, I had t' fight off practically de whole population o' de mansion t' get y' dose." A slight exaggeration, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

"Mah hero." Rogue said sarcastically, then took a bite of her first waffle. A look of awe slowly spread across her face. "These…these are delicious!" She exclaimed, staring at the waffle in wonder.

"T'ank y', _Cherie_. Made 'em m'self. So…"

"So what?" Rogue asked suspiciously. "Is there a catch to the waffles?" Remy waved a hand in the air.

"Only if y' consider it a catch, _Cherie_. Close y' eyes, _sil-vous__ plait_." Dubious, Rogue did as he said, after quickly consuming the rest of the waffle. She felt him move closer, then abruptly there was something over her mouth, and his hand holding the back of her head. And then there was pressure on the thing over her mouth too. But it wasn't hard, it was gentle, delicate. Rogue's eyes snapped back open when she realised; Remy was kissing her through the napkin.

Foolishly, she hadn't expected his to be so close. He had kept his eyes open while kissing her, and she was staring right into his glowing red eyes. Rogue felt her mind going slightly fuzzy, as it had when this had first happened to her, way back in that warehouse, when he had tricked her into taking a charged card from his hand. Just like then, her sense of direction got slightly confused, as while she was definitely telling her body to move back, she was pressing forward, deepening the kiss as much as you can when there is only a thin piece of cloth separating the person you're kissing from unconsciousness.

**I really want a waffle now! ...Oh, and a kiss from Remy, but reviews will just have to do!**

**Wolverine's Fault, a.k.a. Whoops!**

It was approaching midnight, and Wolverine was just heading for bed, when he heard voices coming from downstairs. He recognised the southern accents of both Rogue and Gambit.

"Are y' sure y' want t' do dis, _Cherie_? I won't force y'…"

"No, Ah'm sure. It's important tah yah. Here, hold this."

"Good idea, _Cherie_. This'll make it safer."

"Yeah, that was the plan…that's it, now Ah'll put it in." Bemused but suspicious, Logan crept towards the stairs.

"Okay, put yah hand here." Rogue continued. "No, a little lower. Perfect. And Ah'll put mahne here…" Gambit's yelp made Logan start. He began to walk faster.

"Sorry _ma Chére_, but y' hands are cold. Why are we even in here anyway? A kitchen ain't exactly the place I imagined doin' this in."

"What are yah talkin' abaht? The floor's perfect. Now, yah ready tah start?"

"_Oui_, it's about time I did this."

"Okay…and in…out…in…out…keep up the rhythm, Swamp Rat!"

"_D'accord_, bu' it's hard. Can we go a bit slower, possibly?"

"Fahne, Ah suppose that's OK. But next time we're goin' at full speed." Running now, Logan got down the stairs and along to the kitchen. He paused briefly outside the door, before sharply turning the handle and pushing the door wide open to reveal…the two southerners, standing together in the middle of the room. Gambit's hand was on Rogue's waist, and hers was on his shoulder. An iPod was peeping out of Rogue's trouser pocket, and they each had one plug in their ear.

"Logan!" Rogue said, surprised, dropping her hand from Gambit's shoulder. He, however, kept his on her waist. Wolverine began to laugh.

"Dancin'. You were just dancin'." The two looked at each other in confusion, but understanding slowly dawned on their faces. Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Well thanks foah trustin' meh, Logan. That means a lot, yah know? Besides, as if Ah would…_do it_ with _him_, he can't even dance!"

"I can now!" Gambit protested.

"Prove it." Was Rogue's response, placing her hand back on his shoulder. They began to dance once more and Logan, satisfied that was all, left the room. And a good thing too, because almost immediately after he shut the door Gambit tripped and fell over backwards, pulling Rogue with him.

"Whoops!" She said, laughing. In response, Gambit bumped his nose against hers, and kissed her.

**So, whaddaya think? Any good? The 'he can't even dance' is a reference to the X-men comics, in which Gambit admits to Storm that the only dance he knows is the waltz.**


	24. Xgirl Conspiracy

**Argh! I am so stupid. Instead of going straight on to this one, I wrote an extra W, which I've added to the end of the Waffles chapter, so that's there if you want to read it. I could add on loads of pathetic excuses as to why I haven't updated, but they'd be pathetic, so yeah. Please enjoy the late, late, **_**late**_** update!**

**X-girl Conspiracy**

Ready and waiting, Kitty heard, over the intercom, a motorbike pull up outside the gate of the mansion. She pressed the button on the control panel in front of her and the gates, which had been carefully oiled earlier that day, swung open on silent hinges. From up on the roof, Storm saw this and at once began to work, making the air inside the grounds of the manor thick and misty. From and upstairs window, Wolverine watched the mists with slight confusion.

_It wasn't meant to get foggy tonight_. He thought to himself, but after living with a mansion-full of mutants all these years, he knew better than to trust the weatherman. Meanwhile, the door to the Institute opened as silently as the gate, courtesy of a pair of lock picks deftly used by the owner of the motorbike. As he snuck into the dark foyer, a voice sounded in his head, and that of his other plotters.

_Kurt's awake! Tabby, intercept him before he gets to the foyer!_

The man froze, glanced around, and ducked into a nearby corridor as he heard footsteps approaching. Two red dots at head height were the only indication that he was there. The footsteps were soft and shuffling, as if furred feet were dragging slowly on carpet. As the creator of the footsteps came to the top of the staircase, another pair could be heard. These were made by heeled boots on carpet, a muffled clacking.

"Hey, Blue!" A girl's voice hissed.

"_Ja_?" A sleepy, male German voice answered.

"Where ya goin'?" The girl asked. The man in the shadows presumed it was 'Tabby'. The male he recognised as Nightcrawler, or Kurt.

"To ze kitchen. I voke up, so I'm getting a drink ov milk." He explained.

"Well then I'm comin' with ya! Kitty warned me not to trust you with the milk. Bamf us, it'll be faster!" A pair of red eyes watched as the girl linked arms with the fuzzy blue boy, and a cloud of brimstone swallowed them both, accompanied by a 'bamf' sound. Once he was sure they were gone, the man moved quickly out of his corridor, and up the stairs. Guided by that same voice in his head as before, he arrived at his destination without being located by the ever-watchful Logan.

Knocking softly on the door, the man slipped inside. The room was simple; two beds, and a door leading to a bathroom. In between the beds was a large window. Both beds were occupied, one was being sat on by a small, slim girl with brown hair, who bounced to her feet as the door opened. She grinned sunnily at him, and skipped through the closed door. The occupant of the other bed was dead to the world, however. Her face was pressed into the pillow, and one of her arms dangled over the side of the bed. He walked softly over to the bed, and crouched down beside it.

"_Chére_." He whispered in her ear, receiving no response.

"_Ma Chére_. Wake up." He said, nudging her shoulder, gaining him a floppy wave of the arm and a slight growl.

"Rogue, if y' don' wake up, I'll kiss y'." He whispered, grinning at her lack of response. Bending over the sleeping figure, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, bared of hair due to the odd position she was sleeping in. The effect was instantaneous. Rogue sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide open. Slowly, she turned her head to glare menacingly at him.

However, he ignored this and got up to sit on the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

"_Bonjour, ma Chére._ How are y'?" Ignoring the arms around her waist, Rogue turned around to face the Cajun.

"Ah have jus' been woken up, well befoah Ah have tah get up. In fact, it's still dark outsahde. In May. So Ah'm thinkin', how in the Sam hill d'yah think Ah am?" The Cajun merely smirked, and pulled her closer.

"Remy's t'inkin' y're happy t' see him, _Chére_. Is he righ'?" Rogue sighed, and leant back into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Ah shoulda figured yah'd fahnd out soonah or latah. How did yah? Fahnd out, Ah mean." She added. Remy smiled, and pressed his lips to the top of her head before replying;

"Y're _amie_ tol' me. Kitty. She rang me up t' tell th' good news." Rogue sighed again, in a slightly annoyed way.

"Ah sweah she stole mah cell phone an' jus' called every numbah in the address book. Ah wouldn' be surprised tah find Mystique at tha door, offerin' her congratulations." Shifting position, Rogue turned to face Remy. She lifted her bare hand, and lightly stroked his cheek. He reached up and held her hand there. It felt good, trapped between the palm of his hand, and the slight scratchiness of his cheek. His other hand tightened its grip on her waist, and pulled her onto his lap. Like a blind person, she ran her fingers lightly over his face, feeling every part of it, skin on skin. He closed his eyes as her hands slid over them, coming to rest on either side of his face. He reopened his eyes to find hers right in front, their noses nearly touching. He closed the gap between them, their mouths touching briefly, then again. And again. Both relishing the ability to finally be with each other, skin on skin, no layer of protective clothing between them.

**Whaddaya think? The next one will be sooner, I promise!**


	25. Your Turn

**Your turn**

It was a quiet night in Franklin, Louisiana. Quiet, until a baby's wail pierced the night. The wail was coming from a bedroom in a large flat. The room next door was also a bedroom, containing a large double bed. The bed contained two people, both of which were trying to stay asleep. Finally, Rogue gave up, and opened her eyes. She poked her husband repeatedly in the shoulder, until he too was awake.

"_Chére,_ _C'est trop premier."_ He grumbled. She prodded him again.

"English, Swamp Rat."

"I's too early, _Chére_. T'aint ev'n ligh' yet." Rogue huffed, then growled as he rolled over to try and get back to sleep.

"Remy, it's yah're turn tah check on Mattie. Yahr daughter, remembah?" He turned back to face her, and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"Bu' y'll do it fer Remy, won't y', _Chére_?" Rogue smirked.

"No, Ah won't. Now git." She lifted her feet up and pushed him, hard. Remy felt himself sliding out of bed, with a one-way ticket to the floor. He grabbed hold of Rogue's arm, but she fell with him. They landed, tangled together in the bed sheet, on the cold wooden floor. Remy was on his back on the floor, with Rogue on top of him, her legs between his, propped on her elbows either side of his face. He smirked, and closed the gap between their faces, kissing her. A while later, they stopped, and Remy lay back on the floor.

"Still Remy's turn?" He asked, confidently.

"Yup." His wife replied, and got back into bed. Muttering in French, the Cajun went to check on his daughter.

**A bit short I know, but I hope you liked it!**


	26. Zipper

**Zipper**

He'd tried. He had honestly tried, but this just wasn't the place for him. He wasn't like all the others here; good, kind, and almost unbearably preppy. He just didn't fit in. But then again, Gambit was used to that. When at home in New Orleans with the Thieves' Guild, he was the odd one; the mutant among humans. When with the Marauders, he was the only one forced to be on the team. The Acolytes? Besides from Colossus, he was the only sane one. And now, here with the X-men his past haunted him, reminding him constantly that he didn't belong, would never fit in.

He'd known this would happen, he just didn't think it would be so soon. He'd even prepared a safety bag, full of essentials. He hated saying goodbye. Better to sneak off, like a thief in the night. Gambit paused to laugh at the irony of that thought, and then carried on packing. It was typical that his stuff wouldn't all fit. The carry-all was packed full, and he still had one more pair of pants to stuff in. His _Tante_ Mattie would be horrified at his packing skills, but right now he couldn't care less. Finally, the pants were in, and he began to pull the zipper. It wouldn't budge. He pulled harder, but still nothing. Cursing to himself, Remy left the zipper open, and turned to grab his coat from where it lay on the seat of the chair.

As he was shrugging on the coat, a knock came on the door. He looked up, startled. It was well into the night, who would come to his door so late? Walking swiftly over, he opened the door, standing in the doorway to block the person's view of his empty room. It was Rogue. His thief's eyes noticed immediately that she was holding something in her right hand. It was a playing card.

"Can Remy help y', _Chére_?" He asked, coolly. She was another reason for his leaving. After all they'd been through in New Orleans, she'd just completely blanked him every time she saw him. She shifted uncomfortably, and eventually held out the card to him. It was a rather worn Queen of Hearts. Surely not…

"Ah…" Rogue began, trailing off. She swallowed, and started again. "Ah want tah know why yah gave meh this, Swamp Rat. What it meant, at the tahme…and…and if it still means somethang." She shifted position again, obviously not liking the situation. Well, then maybe she shouldn't have come. Gambit thought bitterly. It's not as if they were friends or anything.

"It means whatever y' want it to, Rogue. Now, if y'll excuse me, I'm busy. He tried to shut the door. Big mistake. She scowled at him, angry now.

"Ah want a straight answer fer once, Swamp Rat! Tell meh tha truth! An' besahdes, what would yah be doin' that's so important this late at night?" Her eyes took in the coat he was wearing. Peering over his shoulder, she could see the bare room, and the bag on his bed. "Gambit, are yah…are yah leavin'?" She queried. A panicked look came into his eyes.

"On second thoughts, let's talk abou' de card, _non_?" But she ignored him, pushing past into the room. After scanning it once, she turned to face him, hands on hips, head cocked.

"Well, Swamp Rat? Is it realleh so awful here that yah can't stay 'til mornin'?" Gambit sighed, and closed the door behind him, stepping into the room.

"I don' belong here, _Chére_. Surely y' can see dat. I jus' don' fit in. Not here." Rogue rolled her eyes.

"An' yah think Ah do fit in? Ah've got what, four friends here? An' one of them's mah brother, one's mah old room-mate, an' the third's old enough tah be mah great-grandpappy. We're oddballs, Swamp Rat. We're not meant tah fit in."

"T'anks fer de encouragement, _Chére_. Real inspirin'." He answered sarcastically. Rogue huffed, and walked over to him.

"Ah know yah, Remy. Ah've got yah inside mah head, remembah? And Ah know that 'not fittin' in' has nevah stopped yah frahm doin' anything in the past. So what's the mattah? The truth, this time." She tapped her foot expectantly. But how could he explain? How could he tell her that _she_ was the reason he came here, _she_ was the reason that people passing him in the street kept their wallets. _She_ was the one he endured this place for. How could he tell her that, and still retain one scrap of dignity?

So he kissed her. He did it, he reasoned, to tell her why. It was only meant to be brief; just long enough to get the point across. Then he'd leave. What he wasn't expecting, was a lack of suction. No feeling of his life and powers being drained away, of his thoughts and memories being taken and given to somebody else. Just her lips on his; warm, soft, and tasting of sweet spices. He broke away eyes wide open in surprise. Looking closely at Rogue, he could have sworn that under the make-up she was blushing.

"What de hell? Why didn' y'-" He began to ask, but was interrupted when she put her finger on his lips.

"Ssh." She whispered.

* * *

The following morning Rogue awoke, curled up in Gambit's bed, half-lying on his chest. She moved slightly, and his arm tightened around her. Giving up the struggle, she draped her arm across him, and smiled to herself. She had only stayed to keep him from leaving, she told herself. Then she snorted. Yeah, right.

**It's finally over! I can't believe it. What do you think?**


End file.
